Whatever's Left
by KJ Fontana
Summary: AU – Severus Snape, exhausted and emotionally battered after losing an old friend in the final battle with Voldemort, moves in with the most unlikely of people. SS, RL. HC, no slash. OOC Snape.
1. Prologue

**Whatever's Left**

By KJ Fontana

AU – Severus Snape, exhausted and emotionally battered after losing an old friend in the final battle with Voldemort, moves in with the most unlikely of people. Will he let grief, depression, illness and self-loathing consume him, or will he allow Remus Lupin's help? Will Severus be able to give something in return? Plenty of h/c. No slash. Snape OOC.

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, not mine, yadda yadda yadda.

Author's Notes: Be Kind, Please Rewind (just kidding!) The plot of this story is so overdone you may just roll your eyes, however…. this is my first fan fiction, so paLEASE drop a quick review my way when you're through. If people like this story then I will gladly finish it.

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Prologue

Every day at 3:00 the light bulb turned off inside Severus Snape's head, and like a programmed robot he retreated to his own room down the narrow hallway of the home he shared with Remus Lupin. Every day at 3:00 he locked the bedroom door with a special warded key, and once he was sure that nobody could get in, the ex-potions master of Hogwarts would sit down on the edge of his bed and quietly cry.

Water would leak from his eyes and trail down pale cheeks, sometimes dripping from his chin to upturned palms resting feebly in his lap, sometimes getting lost in a shadow of black hair. His thin body would shudder weakly as he began sobbing. At this point he often buried his face in his hands or a nearby pillow so that Remus wouldn't hear him and come running.

When all the tears were almost spent and the sobs reduced to small hiccups, Severus would gingerly crawl up the dark bedspread and lie belly down, his arms drawn in protectively like a young napping child. He always faced the nightstand to his left so he could see her picture before drifting off to sleep. Her photograph he kept in a pewter frame ornate with simple Celtic knots, the only visible personal item in the whole room.

She was staring out a window, dark eyes lost in thought as if caught up in a vivid daydream, this somber woman in her mid-forties looking so strangely peaceful. Although the close angle obscured most of her lower half, it was still obvious she was wearing the dark robes of an Auror. Obsidian beads hung from her neck and got lost under the folds of her shirt, where you could make out the faint contours of a cross if you looked hard enough. Her fedora cast strange shadows.

But appearances often lie. In reality this was a photograph of an Auror watching criminal activity from a stakeout point. It was a Sunday afternoon. Evidence had to be collected before a bust could be made. Photos were taken. Knives hidden under her robe, just in case. A wand clenched in each hand, an obsidian cross hanging from her neck to ward off evil creatures of the night.

Severus knew all of this but loved the picture anyway, because he imagined the pretense, a woman lost in dreams near a window, was what Katie would have been had Tom Riddle not gone completely nutters. He imagined she would have loved to walk along the seaside collecting pretty shells. She would have wanted to have a husband, some children. Maybe even a nice garden. A nice life.

She would be alive right now. Not a casualty. Not dead.

Alive.

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Every afternoon at 2:59 Remus Lupin took an apple from the fruit basket and settled into his favorite chair near the wall of books in the living room. At 3 'o clock sharp his housemate never failed to go to his room for a nap, and Remus took the opportunity to be alone with himself for awhile. He would open up the latest book and pull out a bookmark that nobody knew about, a small square of blue cloth about the size of a handkerchief.

He would hold and rub it between his fingers, or sometimes lay it out and smooth the wrinkles until it was perfectly flat. Remus read bits of his book, absently fidgeting with the cloth the whole time, often getting lost in memories that by now were far too old to be dwelling on.

He thought of a woman with long dark hair, aged and mature but growing in confidence the older she got. What a far cry from the girl he used to know back in school, the wallflower who could neither read nor write nor stand up for herself properly. As a grown woman she was never still, always moving, always giving orders and investigating claims with the intensity of someone who probably never slept.

His memories of her were brief and distant. They were painfully impersonal. When Remus was a Hogwarts teacher he would sometimes see her roaming the castle, an Auror on business, a shadow in the hallway. He shrank from speaking with her out of apathy, never approaching her or allowing himself to come within 20 feet. They were not friends and never had been. Was there a point in starting now? All his life he kept this belief, blissfully unaware that they were in fact linked, that for 27 years he was watched over by someone he barely even knew.

He found out too late who she was. The truth came out as she lay dying on the battlefield, and for a long while afterwards all he could feel for himself was pity that his angel, his benefactor, was taken away before he ever got the chance to know her.

This torn piece of her blue robe was all he had now.

It was the closest he'd ever been.


	2. Take My Hand

Chapter 1: Take My Hand

_One month previous_

Remus was the one to find Snape on the open battlefield the night Voldemort was killed, after all the madness and mayhem was over, when the fighting was done and the bodies of dead witches and wizards lay strewn on a grassy hill in Kensington.

Severus sat in the dirt with the most vacant expression on his face, still holding the cold hand of a corpse as if silently willing it to stand up and walk. Severus did not move as Remus approached, giving no indications that he was at all aware of the other man's presence.

It was wrong seeing him like this, docile and lifeless, when he was usually so brazen. So angry. If nothing else, the snarky potions master had always managed to maintain a tight semblance of control in even the worst of situations. Severus Snape never let on when he was injured, cold or fatigued. He was known for fiercely guarding his weak moments from the prying eyes of others, which is why Remus was indeed surprised to find the wizard in such a muddled state.

Snape was, quite frankly, a mess. Red mud caked his long hair. The skin on his face was streaked where tears had forged through layers of blood and dirt, leaving little river trails. Had he been crying? Remus could hardly believe it.

Cautiously Remus reached out and gently shook Snape's shoulder. He was loose and pliable, not a stiff bone in his body, and if Remus had pushed any harder he would have knocked Snape to the ground. The expressionless potions master did not respond, wouldn't even look up at the wizard trying to get his attention but kept his stare trained down on the dead woman beside him as if lost in an endless chain of defeated thought.

_He's in shock_, Lupin reasoned. _The battle of the century has just been fought, the Dark Lord is dead, and Snape has obviously lost someone close to him._ The last one made the hairs on his arm stand up, and he balked at the realization that Snape had actually managed to maintain some sort of civil friendship between himself and another human being. It seemed so improbable. And yet….here he was, still clinging to the body of….who? Another Death Eater? Remus lowered his lumosed wand to get a closer look and almost gasped when he made out the unmistakable crest on the robe's left breast.

This was not the body of a Death Eater.

This lady had been an Auror. Had he more time, Remus would have liked to mull over this new bit of curious information. Unfortunately, real life got in the way, presenting more pressing matters.

Sirens blasted in the distance and an angry buzzing sound churned overhead. The battle with Voldemort had been fierce enough to attract the attention of the muggle authorities, and now there was a mighty force of muggle peacekeepers about to descend on the area. Any surviving wizards and witches were being told to evacuate in haste before the helicopters touched down. The thought of panicked weapon-bearing muggles filled Remus with a dread so terrible that his knees refused to hold him up any longer.

Remus knelt down in the dirt and struggled to make himself heard above the storm of frightening noises.

"Snape," he said, anxiety building in his normally calm voice, "the muggles are coming with their airplanes and their guns. We're leaving to a safer place now. You need to come with me."

Still Severus did not acknowledge him or make any move to get up. He clutched the dead hand and continued taking shallow breaths. Not a word. Something cold dropped down on Lupin's head. He looked up just in time to see a giant spray of water falling fast towards earth. It began to rain. Fear coursed through Lupin's blood in various stages and degrees, for he knew firsthand what ignorant muggles were capable of doing to creatures they did not understand, to werewolves like him. To dark wizards like Severus. The rain would not stop the muggles from coming in overwhelming numbers, and then even magic would not be able to save them.

Vainly he tried calling to the comatose potions master again. Snape. Snape.

Finally in desperation he cupped the wizard's dirty cheek with his hand and gently made the listless man look at him. "Severus, we have to go," he begged. "Please."

Severus instantly snapped out of his reverie and flinched away from Lupin's touch. He dropped the hand he was holding and put his arms out in front of him protectively, as if expecting a blow at any moment. It wasn't until he really, truly looked into Lupin's concerned face that his eyes flickered with sudden awareness. He began trembling from the cold and the rain, his body once again sinking into its previous state of pathos.

Remus could not keep himself from noticing how thin the other man had gotten, and for some reason this evoked the strange desire to keep him safe and whole. Severus slowly lowered his shivering arms and let his hands drop into the wet mud. "I can't…." he cried faintly, shaking his head. Sad tears poured to the ground, warm water mixing with cold. "I can't."

"Please," Remus insisted firmly. He stood and offered out his hand to the frightened wizard. "I'll apparate us out of here, Severus. I'm not leaving without you."

Wailing sirens grew closer as droplets spilled from Snape's stringy hair and pooled in his eyes. On the distant horizon Remus saw a fleet of cars with pulsing bright lights. The vehicles pulled up quickly and muggles with flashlights climbed out with horrified faces to survey the carnage. Without warning a strong wind picked up followed by the whirling sound of propellers. Lupin's heart dropped down to his stomach. The choppers were here.

Snape's hair whipped back, his eyelashes fluttering in the strong current of air and rain. Their scent blew out over the field and somewhere a police dog bayed with excitement. Severus again looked hard at Remus, completely unaffected by the chaos going on around them. Then, quite suddenly, a strange look passed over his face like a memory breaking the surface. It came up for air before diving back to the dark chasms of his mind. Memory can change everything in an instant.

Before he knew what was happening, Remus felt a cold muddy hand slip into his own and almost without thinking he pulled with all his strength. Remus was shocked to find that Snape's body was so light he nearly flew before landing upright in Lupin's waiting arms. Remus enveloped the exhausted wizard and pressed him as close as humanly possible, ignoring Snape's pathetic attempts to draw back. "Everything will be alright," the werewolf murmured. Relief coursed through him like a morphine drip.

Someone suddenly aimed a giant floodlight directly on them, and that was the moment Remus chose to apparate away. In one blinding flash of light they were gone.

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Coming next: The boys get cleaned up. They have a chat. An arrangement is made.


End file.
